


Here Forever

by Devin776



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Anal Sex, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:14:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26226970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devin776/pseuds/Devin776
Summary: Damen was recovering from his injury in Ios. Laurent just came back from a diplomatic trip.Or: Damen and Laurent being clumsy new lovers. Post-KR and Pre-TSP.
Relationships: Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 164





	Here Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Hi this is my first capri fic and absolutely nothing happened in this. It's just how I picture Damen and Laurent navigating that awkward initial phase of being a couple.

It was all dark outside, warm flames lit up the clean ivory walls of Damen's chambers, complemented by the dim moonlight shining in from the balcony. Upon finishing supper served in his chambers, Damen judged that no other persons or affairs that required his attention would further intrude on his personal space—that of _a patient's_ —tonight. Another dull day of having to rest and heal in bed slipped away, and he did not expect tomorrow to be any more exciting. 

He only noticed the approaching servant did not make obeisance when he came almost next to his bed. He glanced up from the open book in his hands to ask his purpose of visit, only to find out it was not a servant who entered. 

It was Laurent.

"You came back early," Damen said as he closed his book, hearing that smile in his own voice he could barely hide. A fortnight ago, confident that the knife wound on his stomach had been healing well after days of meticulous treatment, Damen had agreed to delegate to Laurent and Nikandros the task of riding to Marlas for a formal meeting with the kyroi of the north. 

"They said a storm was approaching," said Laurent, sitting down in the armchair by Damen's bed. Before Laurent left the capital, everyone already knew this seat was reserved exclusively for the Veretian Prince when he would visit the King, so it was comfortably lined with cushions, with a throw draped over the back that doubled as a cover in the cooler nighttime. Laurent noticed several hard cover books scattered on the floor beside the bed. "Didn't take you as a book lover?"

"Well, my occupation requires me to read a little," Damen replied, echoing the slight mock in Laurent's voice. Judging from the intrigued look on Laurent's face, Damen knew he should soon have someone fetch the Prince a full collection of the classic Akielon saga, his own childhood favourite.

"Come here," Damen patted on the vacant space beside him on the wide mattress, gesturing.

"How's your wound?" Laurent folded his arms, sitting straight-backed as usual and showing no intention to move at all. He looked nothing like someone who just travelled restlessly on the road for days. His golden hair seemed freshly washed, and the Veretian clothing he donned was immaculate with not even one visible wrinkle.

"Terrific, if you can still call that a wound," said Damen.

His recovering process could be broken down into two phases. The first few days after he had come back to consciousness, he had been surrounded by physicians and servants around the clock, being prescribed frequent meals of tasteless porridge and even more frequent doses of pungent draughts, until Paschal finally concluded that the cut had not injured any of his vital organs, and that he would be fine given appropriate treatment. What he hadn't expected was that it would be even harder after his wound mostly closed: he could feel the pain lessening and his strength restoring day by day, yet everyone still insisted he should avoid unnecessary physical activities.

His patience soon wore thin after Laurent's departure. He was pushed to almost exercising his royal authority to dismiss a servant who was trying to stop him from taking a walk in the courtyard one afternoon, and that was when the servant scrambled down on his knees in horror, finally revealing that it was an order by the Veretian Prince to not let the King stroll around the palace, especially nowhere near the training arena and the stables before his return. Indeed, he should have guessed it. 

"Alright, since you're not coming over," seeing no response from Laurent, Damen pushed aside the quilt to make his way to him.

"Don't move," Laurent raised a hand to signal him to halt, then stood up from the armchair and moved to sit along the side of the white mattress.

If he could, he would pull Laurent right into his arms and kiss him until he forgot his original intentions. But it would not work like that, not with Laurent. Even now, even after everything they had been through, Damen was aware that Laurent was still not easily accustomed to the kind of casual, capricious intimacy Damen was familiar with. Damen could not decide whether this was a temporary occurrence that would dwindle away in time, or merely another piece of Laurent's charming stubbornness. All he knew was that he needed to warm Laurent up patiently, as one would need to wake his joints and muscles before sport, as a blossom needed careful nourishing in order to bloom.

"And you? Wasn't it even hotter in Marlas than last time?" It took him a great deal of effort to fight back the urge to probe by adding _Did you meet Isander_. He grabbed Laurent's hand which seemed to be pressing on the bed overcautiously, kissing the joints of his fine fingers. "You smell lovely." For some reason, the scent made him reminiscent of Arles. Orange blossoms?

"It wasn't as breezy there than it is here, but we remained indoors most of the time, so it wasn't that unbearable," answered Laurent. Damen seized the chance to brush a few fingers over his cheek, glad to find the porcelain skin unscathed by the scorching northern sun, proving Laurent's words true. "I've asked them to send over some toiletries I normally use. They've arrived."

"Take off your clothes, Damen," Damen was just reaching out to fiddle with Laurent's hair and his smooth chin when he heard Laurent's words. He paused, blinking, not entirely without expectations.

Placidly, Laurent scooped out a round metal case the size of his palm from the pocket of his jacket. He twisted the cap open swiftly, and the pasty content inside immediately reminded Damen of the days of frequenting the physician's tent a few months ago.

"I've asked them to send this, too."

There was a moment of tranquility in the chambers, with only the rhythmic sounds of tides flowing in from the nearby shore, filling in the silence in the rooms. Damen half-lay in bed, his upper body naked, his head resting on the mahogany headboard, regarding Laurent's moves wordlessly.

Laurent was sitting on the heels of his boots, bending his knees. He shifted the position of his body so that he was not blocking the lamplight, then began to examine Damen's wound. Truthfully, the knife wound didn't appear big at all on the surface, at most the length of a little finger, now completely closed and rid of scabs, leaving only a streak of a fresh pink scar.

He was simply looking at first, then covered his hands on the skin around the wound, pulling gently to test. His eyes, deep blue in dim light, lifted occasionally to observe for any hints of discomfort in Damen. Having recognized ease on Damen's face, Laurent reached his hand to a glass container on the nightstand which contained dressings and fished out a cotton ball. He used it to take from the metal case a tad of the salve that Paschal had once used on Damen, and applied it carefully to the new scar on Damen's abdomen.

Despite how much Damen had loathed the tedious routine of having to check into Paschal's tent every day at that time, he had to admit the salve was indeed very effective. He let out a breath of relief, luxuriating briefly in the cool sensation brought by the ointment as it slowly sank into his skin. If all the post-injury care was given by Laurent, he thought to himself, he actually wouldn't mind doing this every day. 

He was staring at Laurent's profile — blond hair tucked behind his ear, he was tending to Damen's scar in an immensely concentrated manner. He had always been this way, however big or small the matter, he would accomplish it impeccably as long as he decided it was worthwhile. As he was dipping his head, his cheek looked soft and plump, making his face look younger than usual. Damen almost couldn't help wanting to pinch it lightly, anticipating whatever astonished expression he would get in response.

Laurent redid the dressing for his wound (which now only required the simplest bandaging), then turned to meet Damen's gaze, and said, with a faint smile as if suddenly contented, "it is healing very well, indeed."

Sensing a fleeting chance, Damen sat up to close the distance between them, passed a palm over Laurent's back from behind, and leaned in to peck on his cheek. A wave of well-concealed tension travelled through Laurent's spine, his breaths suddenly visible in the form of shallow heaving of his chest.

Damen's lips glided from Laurent's cheek to the corner of his mouth, pressed a chaste kiss on his lips and pulled away. With delight, he saw Laurent move closer unthinkingly to go after the half-done kiss. Driven momentarily by an instinct he had been used to, Damen pulled back again playfully, causing Laurent to miss the intended kiss. Laurent shot a doubtful glance at his smirking face, a tinge of faint red starting to tint his very fair cheeks. He then sat back to straighten his posture, looking slightly alarmed, hands smoothing out the part of the sheets he had just pressed on. 

"No, Laurent, I was just..." _teasing you._ Reminded of the difference between Laurent and his past lovers, Damen held his tongue, suddenly uncertain whether Laurent would find this way of flirting more offensive than enjoyable. He lifted a hand to cup Laurent's cheek and said, "I want to kiss you."

"We'd better not..." but Laurent seemed troubled over a completely different matter, his gaze falling on Damen's still-bare stomach. Damen understood right away the subject of his worry when Laurent spoke again, "Last time, when we... you seemed to be in discomfort."

"That was more than a fortnight ago. I'm nearly fully recovered now, I don't feel any pain at all," Damen had to muster his most serious look as he said this in order not to seem too pleased at Laurent's overexpectation of what they were going to do. _We're only kissing._ His past self would most definitely tease, but he decided to hold back now. 

He drew closer to press a kiss on Laurent's forehead, then the tip of his nose. The strands of blond hair brushing against his lips were dry and smooth, the journey didn't seem to have left even a trace of haggardness on him. He did actually smell like orange blossoms. _I've asked them to send over some toiletries I normally use_ — and Damen finally recalled, that it was the scent of a kind of body oil that Laurent often used in the palace of Arles. _Laurent just returned from a voyage, and came to his chambers after a bath._ Damen tried very hard not to get overjoyed at this thought.

Because Laurent didn't take initiative to shift closer this time, Damen couldn't but willingly take his mouth. Even with his eyes closed, Damen could tell Laurent was sitting very straight now, focusing entirely on steadying his own breath. Damen still found it fascinating, that despite how many times they had kissed, this controlled behaviour of Laurent's would always make kissing feel like some kind of ceremony — at the beginning, at least. Damen's hands were sliding up and down Laurent's back on top of the garments, feeling that tense arc coming loose sweetly little by little under his hands. Laurent tasted faintly like fruit. And he was kissing Damen back, his mouth open, until both of their lips were lined with moist and heat.

Damen was reaching for the laces on the collar of Laurent's jacket when he felt a hand pressing on his bare chest pushing him back. Baffled, he wondered what else could be concerning Laurent this time, then saw Laurent begin undressing himself. For a while, Damen merely watched, with admiration, how efficiently Laurent was doing this. He undid the neck of his jacket and the laces on his cuffs, removed his jacket, then opened the front of his white undershirt, leaving his flushed chest exposed in lamplight, a result of all the kissing that just happened. It was right then when Laurent's eyes shifted onto Damen, scanning over his naked top half and the cream trousers he still had on, then turned back to view his own half-undone outfit, as if deliberating something important.

"Stay there, and don't move," said Laurent, maintaining his gaze on Damen as he made his way to the other end of the bed. Damen understood by now that owing to some unnecessary cautiousness over his injury, this command would likely last through the entire evening (or longer), the same way he understood that he actually didn't mind being ordered to do anything (or not do anything) by Laurent. 

If any of the palace servants entered the chambers now, they would find the Veretian Prince hovering on the King's bed, having just swung his body in one graceful motion to straddle the King's legs, spotless riding boots pressing on white linen. His hands, placed slightly higher on the King's body, were pulling apart the laces on his trousers.

Damen could clearly feel his heartbeat quickening in his chest as he took in each of Laurent's refined movements. Laurent just scrupulously loosened up the laces of his trousers, and with one swift pull, his full erection was freed from restraint. Laurent eyed him once, his expression giving away a hint of amusement, despite still looking concentrated and half-calculating. Damen wondered if the same thought crossed Laurent's mind as it did his — that other night which now felt like too long ago, Laurent had also been above him like this, forcing Damen to lower his guard, while desperately holding onto the last piece of armour shielding his own heart. Things were certainly different now, and he understood so much more than he had then, yet a dull pain still struck him as he recalled the despair he had felt, the hopelessness of being doomed by fate. 

And then he was dragged back to reality by the thing Laurent was going to do — something he had made exceedingly clear he would not do that other night. 

Without hesitation, Laurent took the head of Damen's cock in his mouth, wetting the tip thoroughly. Damen felt a slight suction, then relief, followed by a few repetitions of the same sensations. Pulling away briefly, Laurent's eyes were fixed on that burning part of Damen with all of his attention. Once again, Damen almost couldn't help feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of what he was experiencing. Laurent was indeed quite skillful at this, but that wasn't all of it. 

Laurent planted his hands on Damen's thighs, elbows bending slightly to accommodate his moving up and down as he applied his tongue. Because he lowered his upper body, his bottom was canting upward in an enticing curve. His smooth chest lightly lined with muscles was on display under the open shirt, small nipples taking on a firm shape in the air. 

For Damen, this act had used to be a sort of service, an offering he had always relished while basking in relaxation and superiority. Laurent's beauty was certainly out of this world, his body exquisitely made, but Damen had also had extremely attractive lovers before Laurent. There was something about Laurent, a particular aura, that cool, proud demeanor, that made Damen feel like he was having the most magnificent, luxurious exotic animal frolicking on him — he couldn't shirk the apprehension of losing a limb any second, nor could he take his admiring eyes off him.

As Laurent pressed the tip of his length to the back of his throat, Damen finally let out a loud breath, the muscles on his thighs clenching uncontrollably. His cock reached a shocking depth, yet Laurent was looking rather calm. He was exhaling slowly through his nose, rich gold lashes brushing against his cheeks like fans, apparently undisturbed by the obvious discomfort of having his throat full. He stayed put for a moment, then removed Damen from his mouth with one smooth glide. He regarded the cock now wet and slick with spit, a charming flush visible on his cheeks, pink lips glistening with a moist hue.

Damen soon realized Laurent didn't plan to relieve him with his mouth, as he saw Laurent pull his wonderful lips away and sit up, stripping off the rest of his outfit. He took off his clothes and boots in a swift and unseductive fashion, then dumped them beside the bed almost carelessly. The next thing Damen saw was a naked Laurent straddling his body again, adjusting his position. He placed one hand behind on Damen's thigh for support, then planted his soles beside Damen's hips, parting his legs and lowering his body. He was going to —

"Laurent!" Damen lifted himself up at once and clutched Laurent's waist to stop him.

"I told you not to move. Let go," ignoring Damen's interruption, Laurent merely reached his free hand below to make sure their bodies were in place, and continued to sink slowly. The tip slipped in smoothly.

"But you're going to hurt yourself like th—" to his surprise, Damen did not meet with the dry friction he was expecting, only felt clenched around tightly. It almost felt too tight, but most of it still managed to enter Laurent's body.

As he reached the base of Damen's cock, Laurent exhaled a long sigh at last, as if he had been holding his breath for the past minute. Considering Laurent, who was just pausing to take a short break, a bold assumption began to take shape in Damen's head. Laurent's body was different than that of a pet or a bed slave. It always required delicate, lengthy coaxing from Damen to gradually open up, a process Damen thoroughly enjoyed and often intentionally dragged out, watching Laurent being pushed slowly to the brim of almost losing his mind. There was no way Laurent's body could handle Damen's penetration with the aid of just a bit of spit. 

"Laurent, did you—" he began tentatively, but immediately felt too ridiculous to finish his sentence.

"Yes," interrupted Laurent, cerulean eyes gazing straight at Damen through fluttering lashes. "I want you. I've been wanting it for days, not even your wound will stop me. I bathed and got myself ready before coming here, so that once I'm here I need only strip and let you fuck me — is that what you want to hear?"

He said all of this without break, then inhaled shallowly a few times, trying his best to mask the unsteady breath resulted from Damen's presence inside him. His face dimmed suddenly as a glimmer passed his eyes, as if hurt by his own words.

Had this happened to Damen two months ago, he would certainly have been too surprised and confused to know how to act. He was still a bit dazed now, but he had also come to know Laurent's temperament, had observed patterns in his actions, like how he talked more when he felt nervous. The look on his face was also not completely new to Damen — he thought of not long ago, when Laurent had worn the same expression, staring into Damen's eyes by the hearth in the guest room at the country inn, tensed and puzzled, as if unable to process his own desire.

Damen had noticed. In merely a matter of weeks, Damen had discovered the other side of Laurent that was known to no one else. Laurent could be attentive and sweet, so endearing that Damen wished to hold him in his arms forever. Then he could be like this, like the person he had been when Damen had first known him, defensive and ambivalent, as if a part of him was still in disbelief that he could have this with Damen without consequences.

"No, Laurent... No," said Damen, because Laurent was staring at him, waiting for him to break the silence. 

"Me too, I've missed you too, " he continued as he dragged a palm from Laurent's knee along the inside of his thigh, thumbing gently on the soft skin there. His other hand slipped behind Laurent's nape, pulled him closer and kissed his lips.

He felt a stream of warmth surging in his heart as the truth became clear. Despite everything, Laurent had indeed missed him, wanted him. His burning desire pressing on Damen's stomach could attest to that better than anything. A curve formed at the corners of Damen's mouth, which was now busy with kissing Laurent. His hands began to languidly roam the sides of Laurent's body the way Laurent liked. Soft kisses were sprinkled all over his face and eyelids in between whispered words of affection and comfort.

"It's all yours, Laurent. Tell me what you want, how you want it," he cooed, between kisses. Slowly, Laurent started kissing him back. Damen could feel their kisses gradually becoming more heated and urgent as Laurent's arms found their way onto Damen's shoulders. Soon, he found Laurent trembling in his arms, drenched in sensations. _Yes, that's it_ , thought Damen. Whatever Laurent wanted, he would give. 

Their bodies pressed onto one another seamlessly and began to move in tandem, chasing a wonderful rhythm. "Is your stomach fine like this?" Laurent whispered, panting a little. He let go of a hand that was tangled around Damen's neck and planted it behind himself on the mattress for support, hips rolling rather boldly. "Yes, keep going," said Damen, feeling a bit drunk at the sight, his eyes greedily savouring the way Laurent was going after his own pleasure above him, soft light cast on his slender frame.

Laurent's other hand was still hooked behind Damen's neck, his head tilting slightly backward, nodding in the same pace as his body bounced on Damen's. Damen knew Laurent was responding to him now, not with words, but his body. He was thrilled to realize the more times they were intimate, the more willing Laurent was to let his own preferences be known, giving away hints at times even. Laurent was tweaking his position and the angle they were connected now, just as a soft, hitched sound escaped his throat before he could do anything to stifle it. Damen rounded an arm behind Laurent's waist to help him maintain the inclination he preferred while carefully making sure his movement was gentle enough not to disrupt the fascinating state Laurent was in.

Eyes heavy-lidded, Laurent's deep golden brows etched into a frown, then relaxed, accompanied by long exhalations. An attractive pink hue swept from his cheeks to sweat-glittered chest. The undulations of his body were gradually quickening, his back forming a brilliant arc. Long, firm muscles along his thighs and hips gained from years of horse riding now allowed his strenuous exertion, only what he was chasing now was an endless desire, not speed on the horseback. He was colliding continuously with Damen's sturdy lower abdomen, each contact liquifying his sanity a bit more. 

"Damen, I... This feels so good," mumbled Laurent, words coming out like sighs strung between consistent gasps of pleasure, slurring slightly like his usually sharp mouth was now soaked in honey.

"You look so beautiful like this, you can't even imagine," said Damen, his voice also started shaking a little, sounding more fragile than he expected.

When he finally gave up on biting his lower lip to suppress the sweet sobs coming out from his mouth, in a daze, Laurent started saying Damen's name between the incoherent sounds he was making, like that was a spell that could anchor his boneless body, the only thing he could hold on to.

The feelings were so overpowering that Damen almost felt like he could not bear all of this. Laurent said, _Damen, Damen_. And Damen felt like everything around him was crumbling. The parts of their bodies where they were linked were drenched in sweat, sounds of sloppy skin slapping together filled the room as their overly hastened movements broke the established rhythm. It was when Laurent suddenly let out a startled gasp that Damen realized he had slipped out from Laurent in an uncoordinated moment. He looked up, and found drops of tears from overstimulation on Laurent's flustered face. Even so, Damen still wanted to give him more. He wanted Laurent to do nothing but feel the pleasure he was bringing him, here in a space belonged to them only. 

Laurent was breathing heavily, struggling to slot their bodies together almost clumsily, an action that was made more difficult by his tremulous limbs and their skin slick with sweat and body fluids. Driven by instinct, Damen wrapped an arm around Laurent's back and pushed him back to lie on the mattress. He grabbed a fluffy pillow and shoved it under Laurent's head, then pulled himself above Laurent and went, "Now isn't this better."

Laurent made a small hum of agreement. "Glad to hear, your highness," said Damen amusedly, seizing this moment to loosen up his own tenseness. He nuzzled Laurent's nose a few times gently, inducing a genuine chuckle from Laurent. 

"Come back in," said Laurent softly, hooking his arms back on Damen's neck.

Damen fitted his arms at the crook of Laurent's knees, and pushed the hottest part of him back into his body. He lowered his head to kiss him as his body started to pick up the optimal rhythm. Laurent kissed him back open-mouthed, like an invitation, like a promise. His hands slowly slid from Damen's nape to his broad back, reaching the smalls of his back, as if he could gain the same enjoyment from just feeling Damen's movement with his hands, encouraging. They were moving with more ease and languidness now than just moments ago, with Laurent's body echoing Damen's thrusting in response, carrying them both in a brilliant direction.

It felt so good. Damen suddenly felt like their bodies were merging into one container, filling each other ever so gently and sweetly. He wondered if Laurent felt the same, and before he got to know by seeing, he received affirmation through the incessant, dreamy moans and the pulsations in the deepest part of his body. He had lain naked with countless lovers in the past, but no one had ever made him feel like this.

Laurent's breaths started to hasten and lose its tempo, he could suddenly do nothing other than whispering Damen's name and scattered words of affection. Damen responded softly by his ear, then saw Laurent throw his head back, his whole body shaking as his spilled heat wetted both their chests. Damen embraced Laurent tightly in his arms, panting, and soon also began emptying all of himself inside him. He felt all of a sudden overwhelmed and conquered, like halting before a cliff without warning and unprepared, and realizing all he could manage was to take the leap.

After, Damen waited patiently for Laurent to finish his post-coital routine — fetching towels for them, preparing drinking water and wiping down their bodies. When he returned to their bed, Damen already laid out downy pillows and gestured Laurent to lie beside him, tucking themselves in under the blanket to shield the chill at night. Laurent was lying on his stomach, looking rarely relaxed and boyish. For a moment, they simply enjoyed the tranquility of the night and each other's company. Laurent placed a hand on Damen's chest, watching it rise and fall with each of his breath. Damen's fingers traced the soft lines of Laurent's face basked under pearlescent moonlight. The dark blue gaze suddenly sent him back to a different time, inside a tiny tent stood next to crackling bonfire, where they lay next to each other on a rug of furs, leaning almost as close as they were now.

"What," noticing Damen's pensiveness, Laurent asked.

"I've been wondering," Damen began unthinkingly, knowing they could talk about anything now, "That night, the second time we were at the Vaskian camps... Were you waiting for me to make the first move?"

Damen watched as Laurent took in the meaning of his words. Laurent let out a half-mocking laugh, considered for a few seconds, then said with a clever little smirk, "Let's just say there's a big chance I wouldn't have rejected you that night."

"Really?" Damen said, genuinely surprised, already beginning to imagine scenarios that couldn't really have happened but interested him greatly.

"Yes? It's not every day you see something like _this_ ," Laurent said coolly as he pointed a finger at Damen's topless upper torso left outside the blanket, then turned to look at Damen with a confident and anticipating expression on his face. Damen adored Laurent like this, how he would flirt with him in a self-indulgent and personal manner.

Damen was tempted to argue that he had been made to wear even skimpier clothes in Arles, but in the next second he was weirdly sure the image of himself wearing that ridiculous loincloth at the camps crept into their minds at the same time. They burst into laughter as soon as their eyes met.

"Just now...the thing you said when you were close to finishing," when they finally caught their breath, Laurent said slightly hesitantly. Still immersed in the amused mood, it took Damen a few seconds to get what Laurent was referring to. He vaguely recalled what he whispered to Laurent right before he was hit by his own climax, in Akielon.

"I thought you at least knew how to say 'I love you' in my language," said Damen, raising a brow.

"I do. And I understood the first half," a little flustered, Laurent retorted. Knowing Damen said that on purpose, he still turned to face him, with genuine curiosity, "I just didn't catch the other sentence."

"I said," and so Damen repeated it softly, articulating each syllable. Words suddenly elicited a delicate feeling in him. He lifted a hand to brush a few lingering strands of hair around Laurent's face to behind his ears, smoothing the light brow hair with his thumbs tenderly.

He saw the way his words changed Laurent's face. He was beaming, couldn't help the smile brimming on his face. He also felt precisely how it affected himself as well. It was bizarre. He felt invincible, like nothing else could challenge him; but also extremely vulnerable — ironically, it felt exactly like having a hole on your stomach.

Laurent's hand found his easily, intertwining their fingers. Damen thought, perhaps one day the past would come back and try to get between them, invisible like ghosts, but they had time. And they had _this_. 

"Want to practise sword tomorrow?" suggested Laurent. And Damen's heart felt full.

"Anything with you."

**Author's Note:**

> I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT DAMEN SAID.
> 
> This is my first English fic and jeez it really took me forever to write. I'm sorry if anything reads weird! English is not my first language and definitely not my preferred language to write in (because I'm already a slow writer by default), but I adore this fandom and I love Lamen more than anything in this world so I just had to at least try. Thank you so much for reading <3


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